Human nature longs to classify and quantify. It longs to make lists, to make sense of concepts that are hard to understand or can never be understood. Carl Linnaeus is perhaps the man whose name is most closely aligned with this tendency, but we all benefit and suffer from it. If you’re to ask for my favorite musical artist, I’ll tell you that it’s Ray Charles, Bo Diddley, and Nick Drake, because I can’t imagine having one favorite anything. If you ask me my favorite car, I’m likely to tell you that it’s a 1941 Lincoln Continental Cabriolet, quickly amending that answer to include a 1963 Buick Riviera and my own 1953 Buick Special. Recently, I wondered if I should add a new name to the list.
Last month, my wife and I took a nice 320-mile drive in my ’65 Mustang (my sentimental favorite car) to visit one of my favorite museums, the Gilmore Car Museum. It’s the perfect day trip destination during these trying times: It’s rural, it’s spread out over many acres, and even when it’s a little busy it’s not really crowded. I try to visit at least once every year or two. The Gilmore is unique because it’s many museums in one; clubs use Gilmore’s property to build a museum of their own, so both entities draw more visitors. For example, few people would be interested in spending a day at a Franklin museum, but they might love to see one if they also got to see classic muscle cars or full CCCA Classics.
Gilmore Cadillac Dealership – October 2014
One of the museums on the site is devoted to Cadillacs and LaSalles, and its building was designed to resemble a mid-century Cadillac dealership. Through its windows, I saw a car I’ve swooned over before, a 1955 Cadillac Coupe DeVille.
Upon seeing this car in the window, I actually started laughing because I was so infatuated by it. Luckily, having a lovely spouse at one’s side smooths over any possible ramifications of laughing to oneself alone on the grounds of a museum. But she knew from experience that we’d be spending some time at the shrine of Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac.
I think I’m fortunate to have unabating passions in my life, cars being the foremost among them. I love cars. I’m interested in almost anything you can show me, but a few truly and honestly give me the same pangs as a childhood crush. I’m sometimes embarrassed by the awkward emotional effect that a method of conveyance can have upon me, but it’s always been that way. I told my lovely bride last fall not to be worried if I got misty when we saw Ford vs. Ferrari at the theater with my parents. She laughed and asked why I would tear up at a car movie. My response? “Machines doing great things!” Twice in my life, a ’55 Coupe DeVille has evoked those feelings, so it has to be classified as a favorite, right?
I think so. Starting now, I’m going to focus less on trying to analyze my weird feelings about machinery and focus more on the object of those feelings, this supposedly low-mileage original (?!?) Cadillac. It has a beautiful interior and an attractive (to me…I love greens and blues) color combination.
It has the expensive air conditioning option, as evidenced by the air scoops behind the rear window.
It has a hood that conveys power, just as Harley Earl intended.
It has surprisingly tasteful trim and a lovely golden script.
It has the short-lived but up-to-the-minute “through the bumper” tailpipes, which looked good but weren’t conducive to long-lasting chrome plating.
It has obvious but not obnoxious tailfins, the fins that Cadillac pioneered. In 1955, they were still restrained, but they would famously grow to absurd heights within the next five model years.
I don’t add anything to my lists of favorites lightly. I’ve been listening to a lot of Townes Van Zandt this summer (it’s the “Summer of Townes,” as I say to my wife), but I doubt if I’ll add him to my list of favorite performers quite yet. In the Cadillac’s case, however, I’ve been gobsmacked twice to a grand extent, so I feel confident that when my lovely bride says “How have you never bought a Cadillac?”, she’s on to something big.
Thank you for the reference to Carl Linnaeus. I printed out the article to read later! Lists are a great way to organize your thoughts. After all these years, I am finally open to swooning over a Cadillac, and this green presents the shape.
Absolutely gorgeous. Worthy of the crest and wreath. Great color. By the late 60s we would disparage colors like this as “toilet bowl green”. Now nobody has bathroom fixtures that color either and it looks rich.
That was a car that really struggled with good front license tag placement.
’56 upgrade included a prominently placed golden emblem on the passenger side of the dash, indicating the car’s “fresh date” of 1956.
Which almost immediately began serving as a constant reminder to all that your car was getting out of date. LOL
I remembered seeing this ’56 grille on a Merc lead sled recently and was able to find a picture. IMO it looks great. Love those Dagmars.
” ’56 upgrade included a prominently placed golden emblem on the passenger side of the dash, indicating the car’s “fresh date” of 1956.”
Didn’t Kaiser-Frazer do this also (and of course earlier)?
Im not sure about KF.
Of course Buick put the model year right out front on the grille, so any passerby could see you were behind times.
Buick was even more obvious and upfront with the date – as a kid I thought it was unwise because everyone so valued having the newest car back in the day. Today this detail nicely delineates the model year for those not as knowledgeable or obsessed as CCers.
When the 1959 Buicks came out there was no question but that the 1958’s belonged to a different era.
Two of my favorite things here — the Gilmore Museum and Townes Van Zandt.
I’ve been to the Gilmore only once – in the summer of 2016 when we spent a week’s vacation in Michigan. We visited with two other families, and it’s such an amazing place that even the young kids and the adults who weren’t really car people loved spending a day there, and we could have spent even longer without anyone complaining. I’d love to go back.
Years ago I listened to Townes Van Zandt quite a bit. I used to joke that if I ever started feeling to optimistic about things, I’d listen to Townes bring me back to earth. But my wife absolutely can’t stand his music, so I listen to him only surreptitiously now.. which is probably just as well for my mental health. Pancho and Lefty is still one of my all-time favorite songs, even though I’m still not quite certain what it’s really about.
But oddly, while I love looking at 1950s Cadillacs, I’ve never had a strong desire to own one. For me, the subdued styling of mid-60s Cadillacs is more to my liking – if I were to pick a classic Cadillac to own, I think it would be a 1966 Sedan DeVille.
“Pancho and Lefty” is based on the premise that the main characters were outlaws, but Lefty sold his pal Pancho out to the law. That’s why Van Zandt’s narrator asks you to say a prayer for both of them: one’s dead, the other’s spending the rest of his life in a cheap hotel having to live with himself after his betrayal of a close friend, which is a far cry from the adventures the two companions once had. Apparently, it’s based on Pancho Villa, but I don’t know if that’s true.
I haven’t delved into the meaning of Pancho and Lefty for many years, so forgive me if I’m a little off base here… but I know that Pancho is Pancho Villa, however the part about him having a sidekick or partner who ended up in Cleveland seems made up (again, based on what I recall back when I actually tried to find this out).
So my question is, did Townes make it up — which is possible because it’s a great story — or does Lefty represent someone else, whose life is completely unconnected to Pancho’s except in poetic verse? For example, is Lefty really a down-and-and singer like Townes Van Zandt saw himself… after all, the phrase “Lefty he can’t sing the blues all night long like he used to” doesn’t seem to fit the biography of Mexican outlaw.
Years ago, I would try to figure this still out while on a long drive… alone, of course.
Well, way off topic here, but it’s good to think of this stuff again.
Yeah, from what I understand, Townes made it up…not really based on any actual facts.
These big, tall and buxom cars have always been peak Cadillac for me. It was downhill ever since.
Stunning car. Were the air vents right behind the front door also part of the air conditioning system?
No, those were just for style.
I came very close to buying a 56 Sedan de Ville many years ago up in Washington. What a pretty car it was: yellow with a special order red leather convertible interior! I just wasn’t in a place to take on classic car ownership at the time. I often what happened to that car.
In my fantasies, I would own a ’56 Cadillac, partly because of the dual-coupling Hydra-Matic. I think I would want a Sedan de Ville; they were new that year, and stunning to see. (By the time I was about seven years old and really becoming conscious of cars, these Cadillacs were about six years old, and there were lots of them still on the road.) I’m a sucker for all that plush comfort and the power assists, and I’d definitely want the air conditioner, too.
There was something about the ’54-’56 Cadillacs that hit a sweet spot between the apparent bulkiness of the ’50-’53 models and the increasingly baroque ’57 and beyond. They were only slightly longer than the ’50-’53 models (sometimes just a fraction of an inch), but give the impression of greater length and lower height. Beautiful!
I have to ask… why because of the trans?
They were an awful first-year piece with lots of teething pain.
Eventually the troubles were ironed out, at least as well as the non-converter flush-and-fill design allowed.
I feel that the ’55 is the best of the three year model run. The hood has a raised and more narrow projection, with more prominent Dagmars and an egg crate grille. It looks lighter than the blunter ’56 front end. The ’55 also has the side accent that sweeps up into the faux quarter panel fender scoop, though that is shared with the ’56. The rear bumper is clean with the round exhaust outlet at the bottom instead of the oval port midway up the bumper with the corresponding quarter panel pods. That beautiful “Florentine curve” of the rear window and roof was shared by all hardtop models over the three year run. Even the four door hardtop model, which debuted in 1956. Either way, these cars embody the Classic Cadillac look of my youth. It wasn’t until the ’65-66 models that they produced another iconic design. At least in my opinion. I would take that green beauty in a heartbeat.
I have a 1994 Cadillac STS is in classic
I think the ’65-’66 models you mentioned actually look best in four-door hardtop form, although a ’55 Sedan deVille hardtop (which is kind of funny sounding) would look great. I agree that the ’56 front end looks a little heavy- not unattractive – but I prefer the ’54-’55.
Love the Dagmars – and Nick drake…..
I’m a little embarrassed to say that I heard him for the first time, like many did, on that Volkswagen commercial about 20 years ago. His is certainly a sad tale (like many artists), but I think he was great.
In the 60s, the record company put out a few ‘sampler’ albums – a track by Leonard Cohen, a track by King Crimson etc – and ‘Time Has Told Me’ featured on one.
Indeed, this is a beauty! I drove one in the 1960’s for a test drive. I cd not see past the hood until along distance! But it is a gorgeous car with beautiful lines. These cars evoked prestige.
I’ve always found these a little frumpy, but that color wakes it right up!
Lovely car and very understandable emotions. I feel the same way when I see certain automobiles from my youth in person. I also just realized that the those tail lights originated on the Buick Y job from 1938! I plan to visit the Gilmore after things settle down.
I’d enjoy driving this car for a couple of days this time of the year, experiencing the sum total of this enviable car, checking out the factory air conditioning, experiencing how well it keeps the interior cool during the always Hot & Humid month of August here in New Orleans.
I imagine that the air conditioner was pretty industrial in this car – perfect for your climate. 🙂
I’d love to find out.
This time of the year there is no such thing as an A/C unit that is too cold or too powerful.
The colors would not have been at the top of my list of choices, but this is a delicious car for sure. I agree with most here that the 55 Cad was a keeper.
If my mother’s Aunt Alma had not decided to trade on the new 63 Fleetwood Sixty Special I bought from her in 1979 her prior car might have still been available then, which was a black 55 Fleetwood Sixty Special.
It’s a beautiful car from the era immediately before the styling became more “expressive,” so to speak. I too love greens, blues, and aquamarines.
For three years years in the late 1950s, I lived next door to a 1956 Cadillac Coupe DeVille. It had air conditioning and the cool air from the trunk mounted unit was projected forward through clear plastic tubes mounted in the package Shelf ahead of the rear window. I do not see those on this unit and did not find any in the 1956 Cadillacs I reviewed online. Do others remember the clear plastic tubes?
Yes, there should be tubes on the featured car. You can see the openings at each end of the parcel shelf.
It is my understanding that by 1955 (possibly 1954) the two door Cadillacs did without the tubes and overhead vents, and just had the air come through two adjustable for direction vents on the rear package shelf. The new for 1956 Sedan de Ville four door hardtop followed in the same manner. Four door sedans however, continued with the plastic tubes and overhead vents. If you check Google Images, you will find this to be the case.
I read somewhere that as far back as 1953 when Cadillac reintroduced air conditioning to the options list, you could specify whether or not your air conditioned Cadillac had the tubes/overhead vents or just have the air vent as shown here. Personally, I like the look and novelty of the tubes as it adds to the novelty of an early to mid fifties air conditioned car!